


Passenger

by ClassicallyYours



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:44:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassicallyYours/pseuds/ClassicallyYours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well I would swim but the river is so wide<br/>And I’m scared I won’t make it to the other side<br/>Well God knows I’ve failed but He knows that I’ve tried<br/>I long for something that’s safe and warm<br/>But all I have is all that is gone<br/>I’m as helpless and as hopeless as a feather on the Clyde...</p><p>Eren sees him playing in a bar and knows it's over before it has begun.  Levi's never played well with others. But he may be able to be convinced to do a duet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Team

**Author's Note:**

> So just a few little introductory notes to get you started:
> 
> 1\. This is a fic inspired by the music of Passenger and similar artists.  
> 1 1/2. As such, you will take note that the first chapter involves a non-Passenger song. As will many more chapters. I encourage you to listen to the chapter title songs to get a feel for the chapters!  
> 2\. This is an Ereri/Riren fic primarily but I will add tags as couples appear and trust me I ship a lot of ships so there will definitely be a lot of gay shit going on and if you don't like lesbian and straight couples too get out because they're going to happen it's a F A C T *throws glitter in the air*  
> 3\. We'll start this out on M but it's gonna get E later on (mmmffFFF)  
> 4\. Levi has a British accent. juST SHUT UP SHUT UP WE'LL GET TO THE DETAILS LATER OK I PROMISE--  
> 5\. Just bear with me on a lot of things like back story and OoCness and shit because I promise I have reasons (just really shitty ones is all)
> 
> And with that, thank you for joining me for my second SnK fic and I hope you all enjoy it!!

“Let’s get another round for the birthday boy!”

Eren twitched at the drunken stranger’s words. This guy had been sitting next to them at the bar for thirty minutes, hitting on Mikasa relentlessly in between shots of Jack. Unsurprisingly, he also had the unfortunate discrepancy of being the loudest and most annoying patron there.

“Hannes, go home,” the bartender groaned. “You’re drunk. And besides, you don’t have a penny left.”

“No!” Hannes barked sloppily, waving a shot glass in the air. “I am not leaving until this little… _hic_ … this little punk is blacked out to next Wednesday. I want him to have a proper _twenty-first_!”

Armin shifted uncomfortably behind Eren on his stool, tilting his blond head in a sign of slight concern. “Sir, please. You’re only making him uncomfortable…”

Eren just sat silently, albeit it mind-numbingly irritated, through the entire exchange, leaning over the bar to sip at his fizzy cocktail that Mikasa had insisted on getting him. He himself was far too fuzzy-headed to start a fight, no matter how much he wanted to, and besides, it was his birthday. For once, he’d leave it up to Mikasa and Armin to deal with the guy.

After some cajoling from Armin and the bartender and a promise from Mikasa to give him her number (which was, in fact, a fake), the man finally relented and got up to leave, stumbling out of the door of the cozy tavern. It was a nice, historic structure with finely polished wood floors, a few booths, some tables, a bar, and a small stage towards the back. Eren had picked the venue for his twenty-first birthday celebration mostly on the basis that all of the other bars in the area were cheap, scummy joints that did drug deals out of the back. The Legion, on the other hand, had a great reputation, and was kept fairly clean aside from the second hand smoke that created a thin veil just below the ceiling.

“Thank God he’s gone,” Mikasa commented, still glaring in the direction of the door. “How many times do I have to say it until ‘no’ finally means ‘no.’”

Eren just shook his head wearily and swirled his glass around on the counter. “Can we just head out soon? It was really nice of you guys to take me out and all, but I think it’d be best if we just left…”

“No!” Mikasa slammed her palms on the bar top. “No. You haven’t even done a shot yet!”

Eren groaned. “Jesus Christ, I didn’t realize there were so many requirements for turning twenty-one…”

“Just one shot!” Mikasa begged. “Armin and I will do it with you. Then we’ll head out. I promise.”

Eren looked over at his adopted sister, trying her hardest to make a whimpering puppy dog face but failing miserably and just looking vaguely displeased. He looked to Armin, who just shrugged and offered a kind smile.

“Bottoms up?” The blond suggested.

“Fine!” Eren sighed, exasperated. “One shot. Then we’re leaving.”

Mikasa waved the bartender over. “Three buttery nipples, please.”

Eren made a face. “Why do they give shots such gross names?”

Mikasa laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s delicious.”

 “Buttery nipples _are_ quite good,” Armin nodded.

The brunette scoffed, and opened his mouth to make a lewd joke, but then stopped short. “No, you know what. I’m not even gonna touch that one.”

The three laughed amongst themselves and teased each other until their shots came up. Then, all at once, they raised their glasses and threw them back. Eren, unaccustomed to doing shots, almost choked on his, spitting and sputtering as he doubled over the counter while Mikasa rubbed his back.

“There, there, lightweight, we’ll make you a drunkard yet,” she cooed.

As Eren was regretting every decision that ever led him led him into that bar in the first place, he heard a round of applause erupt from behind him. He straightened himself and turned around on his barstool as both Mikasa and Armin turned their heads to see what was going on.

A short, dark haired man with a guitar slung over his shoulder had just stepped out onto the tiny stage in the back of the tavern. He was conversing with the people seated at the tables closest to the stage. Every time he opened his mouth, someone roared with laughter, and a flawless grin spread across his face. Eren swore he heard him say to one patron, “Come back for a second round, ya drunken bastard?” The man in question just waved his finger at him teasingly, and the guitarist shook his head back at him in faux embarrassment. Then he sidled up to a stool placed squarely in the middle of the stage and took a seat, adjusting the microphone next to him so that it was near enough to his mouth to pick up his voice.

Before he even opened his mouth, there was a second round of applause. He bit his tongue teasingly at the customers responsible for it. “Hello again, ya fuckin’ assholes,” he sneered, his voice higher than one might expect it to be, but certainly not feminine. His British accent seemed thick to Eren’s American ears. “Guess what time of the night it is?” He strummed his guitar a few times for emphasis. “Time for the one bit of culture you poor slobs ever get.”

The crowd laughed at his rude jokes as he strummed along absentmindedly, waiting for them to die back down again. He turned his attention back to his mic. “But seriously, now. I’m glad you all came here to see me tonight, because it sure as hell isn’t that backwash Mike calls drinks that did it.”

There was a teasing “ooo” from the crowd. The bartender raised his head from wiping off the counter and flipped the guitarist off, causing the patrons to break out into laughter once again.

“Alright, alright,” he strummed a few more chords in quick succession. “We’ve had our fun. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to actually fucking play this thing.”

The crowd gave a brief applause, but died down quickly, as the man had already started playing his instrument. Eren just watched in silent awe as his slender fingers crept across the strings, pulling, plucking, and strumming at just the right moments to make each note ring. It was enchanting the way he swept his hand back and forth, eyes closed, leg bobbing rhythmically in time with the music.

And then, he sang.

“ _White lips, pale face, breathing in snowflakes. Burnt lungs, sour taste…_ ”

Everything in the tavern seemed to fade away. Eren was left in an empty bar, sitting across the room from the mesmerizing man who made everything else seem meaningless with his voice. He felt a sense of wholeness, of completion, but then realized it was a superficial decoration for a deep and intense feeling of longing. His voice made him feel bitter and nostalgic; like he was missing something in his life that he never knew existed before tonight. It was a strange emotion, but it seemed to settle itself comfortably in Eren’s heart, weighing his chest down like a leaden brick.

“ _’Cause we're just under the upper hand, and go mad for a couple grams…”_

 “Holy shit, he’s pretty good,” Mikasa breathed, and the world came crashing back down around him.

“Yeah…” Was all Eren could sigh in reply.

The trio sat and listened quietly to the rest of the song. The entire tavern had lulled to a quiet din. There was something incredibly peaceful about the current ambience paired with the music that made everything seem hazy. It was oddly comforting, though.

The man finished his song and trailed off on the last chord. Eren hadn’t even realized how quickly time had gone by. The small crowd in front of the stage burst out into applause and whoops once again, and the three young adults at the bar clapped quietly amongst themselves.

Mikasa swiveled on her stool to face Eren. “You wanna head out now? I know you were getting sick of this place.”

Eren thought about it for a moment, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “No,” he said. He looked over to the man on the stage, who looked like he was getting ready to start another song. “I think I’d like to stick around a little longer.”

Mikasa and Armin just smiled at each other before the blond haired boy turned towards the counter and slammed his hand on it with uncharacteristic zealousness. “Excuse me, sir! Can we get a round of liquid cocaine?”

“Jesus Christ, Armin,” Mikasa leaned forward over the counter to look at him in disbelief. “You go hard, don’t you?”

Armin rubbed the back of his neck as a nervous smile spread across his face. “What can I say? I like my shots with a little bite to them.”

Mikasa just shook her head. “Whatever, I’m down. Just… Eren… Don’t be surprised if you don’t remember tonight, ok?”

Eren just nodded numbly, already back to being entranced by the guitarist.

If he remembered anything, he hoped it would be him.


	2. Keep On Walking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boo! It's an update! On Halloween! So spooOOOoooOOOpyyy~
> 
> Sorry this took me forever to update, but middle schoolers rule my life right now. Please, if you are between the grades of 7-12, take it easy on your teachers. YOU NEVER KNOW, THEY COULD SECRETLY BE WRITING FAN FICTION. (even MORE spooOOOoooppyyy!!!)
> 
> AND! The first chapter title that's an actual Passenger song in the fic! Aha! In case I haven't said it already, I highly suggest you listen to the title song in combination with reading the chapter. Bitch, I ain't modest-- I think I have a pretty good taste in music.
> 
> AND WITH THAT, MORE EXPOSITION!

Eren woke up the next Tuesday still feeling hung over despite the fact that his birthday had been the previous Sunday. Monday had passed by in a blur: most of the day was spent sleeping, rehydrating, and hunched over a toilet. Mikasa had just given Eren one look and immediately scoffed at him. “Lightweight,” she muttered, as she closed the door to their apartment behind her.

Eren squinted over at his alarm clock, trying to decipher the time like ancient hieroglyphics. It was… Eight? Or maybe nine? His eyes hadn’t quite adjusted yet. Just as he was about to give up on Tuesday as well, a pillow flew across his bedroom and smacked him upside the head.

“Get up and get a job, you bum,” Mikasa ordered, leaning through his doorway. She pushed against the frame with both of her hands as she rocked back and forth on her heels. “Come on. You promised me you’d try today.”

“Nooo,” Eren groaned, grabbing the pillow and curling it around his face. “My bed’s so comfortable…”

“Come on, I gave you the benefit of the doubt yesterday. But today, really, you have to at least try.”

Eren groaned again, this time a little more terse, and Mikasa realized she was fighting a losing battle. Sighing wearily like a tired mother, she pushed herself away from Eren’s door and walked down the hall towards the living room. “What would mom say if she saw you now?” She called back to Eren.

He hated when she asked that. Of course, Eren knew what his mom would say. She would scold him for being a lazy good-for-nothing and not taking care of his sister for once, when all she ever did was take care of him. She would probably add in how disappointed she was that his college degree was gathering dust in a drawer somewhere while he sat at home and played video games all day, shifting only occasionally to get food and go to the bathroom. Or at least that’s what Eren thought she would say. And he wouldn’t blame her.

Finally giving in to the power of guilt tripping, Eren rolled out of his bed and trudged out of his room and over to where Mikasa had disappeared to. When he entered the combination living room and kitchen that made up their apartment’s main room, he saw her sitting at the breakfast bar, hurriedly shoveling down a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats and catching up on the daily news.

Eren didn’t even bother to try making conversation as he slipped over to the fridge to make himself some breakfast. Before he opened the door on it, though, he peered at the calendar held up on the front by two tacky cat magnets that had been purchased from only the finest of bargain bins. The coming Saturday was circle in red pen, and written nearly across the top of it was “competition.” As he had done many more times that morning, Eren groaned.

“We have a competition this Saturday? Come on.”

Mikasa didn’t even bother to look over at him. “Please tell me you’ve been practicing.”

“What, are we gonna do Meditation again?” Eren finally opened the door and began rummaging through their stock.

“I was thinking Anitra’s Dance.”

“That one’s so boring, though!” Eren complained, turning around with a carton of eggs and some shredded cheese in his hands. He closed the refrigerator door with a quick bump of his hip.

“Is it really boring, Eren, or have you just not been practicing?”

Eren rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Fine. We’ll do it.”

Mikasa took a sip of the remaining milk from her bowl and then placed it back on the counter delicately. “Jean and Marco are competing.”

“Of course they are,” Eren snorted. “What are they gonna play?”

His sister shrugged. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“Well yeah.” Eren had assembled a nice little work station for himself over by the stove. After melting some butter in the bottom of a frying pan, he cracked an egg on the counter and dropped it in, causing the pan to hiss a little. “I mean, if they’re gonna do Beethoven or Bach, whatever. If they pull out that Tchaikovsky arrangement Marco came up with…”

“What are you implying about _my_ arrangements?” Mikasa finally broke her attention away from the television to shoot Eren a look.

“Whatever, I mean, they’re good… Just, whatever, forget I said anything.”

There was an awkward silence for the briefest of moments before Mikasa scooted her stool away from the counter and picked up her bowl as she stood. “Well. I have to go.”

“When’s the next concert?” Eren asked, trying to salvage a pleasant conversation.

“November 15th. We’ll be playing for the Nutcracker when that goes on, too.”

“Nice.”

Mikasa set her bowl in the sink and then turned on her heel, tossing the end of her red scarf over her shoulder. She was already bundled up in a smart black pea coat dark leather riding boots. She walked over to grab a violin case that was propped up by the door and carefully rested the strap across her shoulder.

“I’m heading out now. Don’t forget that you said you would actually apply to some places today.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Mikasa smiled softly as she opened the door. “Have a good day, Eren.”

“See ya.”

With that, Eren was alone in the quiet, cozy apartment. His scrambled eggs and cheese having just finished cooking, he plated himself up and went over to take the stool next to where Mikasa had sat at the breakfast bar. He quickly changed the channel on the TV to something more interesting. Spike was running a Wipeout marathon, so he set the channel there.

After indulging himself for about an hour, he decided that Mikasa was right, and that he should go out and try to get a job today. He had been unemployed since May of that year, having been part of a set of cuts at his old job. As much as Eren had hated working the shitty minimum wage retail job at god awful hours of the day, he hated losing out on his paychecks even more. Afterwards, he vaguely tried at getting himself another job, but made no real effort and quickly fell into a never-ending cycle of bumming around at home in his sweatpants and only occasionally going out with Armin or Mikasa or to play small-scale gigs every once in a while.

Mikasa, on the other hand, had been gainfully employed for two years by the city’s premier philharmonic orchestra as its first chair violin. This had come as no surprise to anyone who knew her and how naturally talented she was when it came to music. Really, though, Mikasa was talented at just about everything. The only reason she had decided to invest herself in the violin was because Eren had decided that a good way to get out of his parents trying to make him play sports as a child was to weasel them into having him take piano lessons three nights a week.

And here they were now, roughly fifteen years later.

Eren thought about all of this as he shuffled through his morning routine and dressed himself in something that actually looked presentable for once. Afterwards, he grabbed his wallet, his keys, and threw on his charcoal gray winter coat before making his way out of the apartment as well.

It was a chilly November morning in the northern reaches of the United States and the frost had just begun to stick around after the sunrise each morning. As Eren let out a sigh in the apartment complex’s parking lot, swirls of hot air pooled out from his mouth.

He made his way over to an old, hand-me-down, dark red Nissan and opened the driver’s side door, grunting as he pried the frost away from his car. He hopped in unceremoniously and started the car, pulling out of his parking spot and towards the exit to the lot.

His first stop was the local Walmart. But it was too late, they said: hiring for seasonal help had finished up in October. Not one to be bogged down at the first show of rejection, he made his way to the local mall and asked around there. Macy’s said the same; Zumiez was overstaffed; Game Stop didn’t have time to hire with all of the up-and-coming releases; Foot Locker wanted someone with previous experience in athletics; so on and so on down the line. The nice old lady at Friendly’s was kind enough to take an application from him despite having no positions available.

“You’ll be the first one I call if anything opens up, sweetie,” she said with a sincere smile.

Even the fast food places weren’t hiring. Feeling disgruntled and depressed, Eren resolved it would be best for his mental health if he just gave up for the day and tried again tomorrow, or maybe even next week. Slamming the door to his car and wrapping his fingers tightly around the steering wheel, he drove off in a hurry, not sure why he was so upset and too seething to care.

On his way back to the apartment he passed the main street of the city. Not the actual “main street,” mind you, but the one where all of the culture of the city seemed to coalesce. Several of the shops and restaurants were familiar to him, as he had spent many Saturday nights wandering around this part of town with Armin and Mikasa in tow. He passed The Legion and scoffed a little, remembering his twenty-first in vivid detail despite how drunk he had been.

Suddenly, he slammed on the breaks, alarming the other drivers behind him who responded with blaring honks and raised middle fingers. Swearing under his breath, the young man jerked the wheel of the Nissan sharply as he drove over to parallel park on the side of the road. After sloppily pulling up alongside the curb and not even bothering to readjust himself, he tore his keys out of the ignition and jumped out of the car. His foot got stuck in his seat belt in the rush, causing him to trip. He did an awkward little dance to untangle himself and then threw the loose seatbelt back into the car, throwing the door shut as he broke in to a light jog down the street. On his way in to The Legion, he passed the sandwich board sign that had made him pull over. It was a chalkboard that read in nicely formed letters: **HELP WANTED!**

Being that it was only twelve o’clock, the restaurant looked practically deserted when Eren wandered through the front door. The little silver bell at the top of it rang cheerily to signal his entrance. It was a nice, old-fashioned touch for the elegant little tavern. He scanned the room wearily, rubbing his forearm with his other hand. There were just a couple of patrons sitting in the booths enjoying a nice lunch. After about a second and a half of peering around, a young blond woman poked her head out from what Eren assumed was the kitchen.

“Be there in just a second, hun!” She called cheerily, her head disappearing back behind the doors. Eren shifted his weight uncomfortably from side to side as he waited. A moment later, the woman came padding out from the back.

“Just one today?” She asked politely.

“Oh, no,” Eren shook his head. “I’m here to apply.”

“Oo-h,” the shape her mouth made accentuated her response. “I’ll get Erwin. You wait right here.”

Eren just nodded as she disappeared again, this time up a flight of stairs at the very back of the restaurant that he had never noticed before.

He took the time to examine his surroundings a bit more, being that his memory from Sunday was foggy at best. Ugh, Sunday. He hoped that no one here recognized him from then. After they had decided to stay later and toss back a few more shots, Eren had ended up blacking out and having to have Mikasa and Armin help him out to the car. Apparently he hadn’t done anything too embarrassing, but he kept asking where the black-haired guitarist had gone.

 _The black-haired guitarist._ Suddenly it clicked in Eren’s mind. He had totally forgotten all about him. If he got the job here, then that would mean…

He tried not to think about it. Besides, a suave-looking older man with a neatly trimmed hair cut was walking towards him, and he figured that was his cue to snap back from his day dreams and into reality.

“Hello, Erwin Smith, owner and manager,” he extended a hang. Eren shook it firmly.

“Eren Jaeger, pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise. Come, sit,” he motioned over towards the bar. Eren followed him and the two took a seat at a couple of adjacent bar stools. “You don’t happen to have a resume with you, do you?”

Eren mentally slapped himself. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t. But I could e-mail you one if you’d like.”

“That’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m very casual when it comes to hiring. Consider this your interview. So, what made you decide to come in today?”

Eren couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about Erwin and the presence he exuded just made him want to tell the truth. “Honestly, sir, I’ve been unemployed for quite some time now. Since last May, actually. I live with my sister and although she can more than afford to pay for our expenses, I feel pretty much useless to her with how little I do to help out.”

Erwin nodded empathetically. “I see. And what was the last job you had?”

“I worked retail over at Journey’s for about three years.”

Erwin whistled. “Wow. What made them let you go?”

“Cuts, unfortunately. With the yearly raises I had been getting I was more expensive to keep on than a fresh new hire.”

“Do you have any experience in the food industry?”

Eren clenched his fist in his lap. “Well… No. I don’t. But I’m a hard worker. When I have a goal in mind, I stop at nothing to reach it. And I’m sure I’ll pick up the skills quickly.”

“Good. I could use someone around here with a little ambition. How are you at working with other people?”

Eren shrugged. “I seem to get along with other people well enough. Sometimes I can have a bit of a temper… Ok, well, a lot of a temper. But it won’t interfere with my work. I promise.”

Erwin smiled at him for a moment, leaning on his elbow on the counter as he looked at Eren appreciatively. “Why are you being so honest with me, Eren?”

“I don’t really, know, sir. I just figured it was the right thing to do.”

Erwin nodded knowingly and went to stand up. Eren followed the cue and stood as well, cursing himself for having completely bombed his chance at ever working there. But then, Erwin surprised him.

“I’ve got an opening for a bus boy. The pay’s eight dollars an hour plus any tips. When can you start?”

For a second, Eren was speechless. He just looked up at Erwin with reverence and appreciation. “Tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“Excellent,” Erwin replied. “Tomorrow I’ll get you started.”

Just then, someone exited the kitchen carrying a tray on their shoulder. Erwin turned slightly at the noise and grinned when he saw who it was. “Ah, Levi. When you’re finished, come over here and meet our newest team member.”

Eren peered from around Erwin to get a better look at the man. He couldn’t see him from behind the backs of the booths, however. But he did see the expressions on the faces of the two ladies he was serving lunch two, who looked delighted and joyful just after interacting with him. After a quick conversation with them, he made his way back to Erwin and Eren.

“The fuck you want?”

“I wanted you to meet our new bus boy, Eren.”

That was the moment fear took over Eren’s heart. Well, it wasn’t really _fear_. Just an intense combination of dread, anticipation, and extreme anxiety.

It was the black-haired guitarist. The same one from the night of his twenty-first birthday.

He was so much more attractive up close. His lean frame was accentuated by a sleek black vest worn over top of a plain white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His black dress slacks fit his slim legs perfectly, and he had on a shiny pair of black dress shoes. Eren took the time to notice his clean undercut, the three piercings in his left ear, and the edge of a sleeve of tattoos that peeked out ever so slightly from beneath the sleeve of his shirt. He stood there, tray grasped firmly under one arm with the other hand resting on his hip. He looked annoyed.

“Is he a fuckin’ mute?” Levi asked, eyeing the boy suspiciously.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Eren blurted out, perhaps too enthusiastically.

Levi poked the side of his cheek with his tongue and eyed the boy up and down. “Yeah. Same.” He turned back to Erwin and glared up at him. “Look are we done here? I’m in the middle of a game of Hearts with Petra, Aururo and Erd, so I’d appreciate if you’d let me get back to that.”

Erwin laughed despite the obvious show of insubordination. Eren could sense that there was a deeper connection between the two. “God forbid I keep you from that.”

“Tch, yeah, _God forbid_ ,” he replied mockingly before storming away back into the kitchen, the two-way door flapping behind him.

Erwin turned back to Eren, who was still staring in the direction of the kitchen. “Don’t worry. He’ll grow on you. He’s only an ass around people he likes.”

Eren nodded dumbly before snapping his attention back to the conversation when Erwin cleared his throat. “So, tomorrow at eleven work out ok? We’ll start you off easy on lunches.”

“Yeah, that sounds great. Thank you so much, sir, I really appreciate.”

“Please, don’t sound so appreciative. And you can call me Erwin, by the way.”

“Right. Thank you, Erwin,” Eren put out his hand to shake his new boss’s one more time. After that, he left, feeling satisfied but somehow sick to his stomach.

He would be working with him. Tomorrow.

He rubbed his face tiredly with one hand as he used the other to unlock his car. If there was one thing that would calm him down right now, it was video games.

As he started the car, he thought about all of the shit he’d get from Mikasa for not practicing. Whatever, at least he had a job. She could at least be thankful for that.

Eren smiled. At least he knew that _he_ was.


End file.
